


Imperium Sine Fine

by solitariusvirtus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bending every rule, Daughter of Luke!Rey, Dubious Morality, Incorporation of fan theories, May the Force Be With You, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Politics, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the political scene to the entrails of the Starkiller Base, the known universe divides itself between two poles. The New Republic crumbles beneath the weight of its responsibilities and the pressure of imperial remnants. Embroiled in an age-old struggle for power, Force sensitive Lygeia Nadora must ensure the survival of her family at all cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like most everyone, I saw the new Star Wars movie and, since I'm quite hopeless like that, I got it into my head that I could write a little exploratory piece on this new era. To be clear, this story is a Kylo Ren/OC fic that looks a bit at the political and social repercussions of the instability generated by the many changes in the regime, while also weaving a romance with an undecided future at present.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it. :) Mostly because it's just a bit of an experiment.

 

 

 

 

 

Waking with a start, the female gave a weak cry of distress, limbs fighting to free themselves from the restrictive hold of pristine sheets. Droplets of perspiration trailed down her skin, seeping through the thin layer of her nightgown, dampening her skin. Her harsh breathing was the only sound within the vast bedroom. Instinctively she glanced towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the moonlight sure to be bathing the skies. To her surprise, however, thin, spearing, slivers of gold spilled past her window, tumbling upon the tiled floors. Dawn had come.

Disoriented, she continued to stare at the light playing upon the ornate tiles, attempting to calm herself. It sunk in slowly, the realisation blooming like a shy flower.

It had been the Force. A disturbance in its balance had woken her.

Lygeia freed one hand from the tangle of covers and sheets and placed it upon her aching chest. The pain lingered even as she massaged the spot lightly, breathing in deeply. She allowed herself to fall back against the pillows piled against the headboard and closed her eyes. It would pass, she told herself. It was not the first time she'd felt such disturbances and likely it would not be the last.

Sleep was lost to her, she well knew, but that would not stop her from lingering abed in search of peace and quiet. Lygeia turned on her side. Her mouth had gone dry. Poking her tongue out she licked her lower lip, dismayed to find it sensitive to the action. The dull ache was nothing compared to the pain she'd woken to thought and the woman waved it away.

Opening her eyes, Lygeia stared at the glass of water upon the nightstand. If she sat up she could reach it. But there was no intention whatsoever on her part to do so. Once she'd left the bed, she would not go back again until nightfall. And she was much too shocked at the moment to stand upon her feet. In fact, she rather thought she heard her knees knocking together in fright.

It was the First Order. Of that much the Coruscanti native was certain. There had been talk, hushed whispers about the old capital. A stir, as it were, and a call to arms from both sides. Battle after battle, history repeated itself ad infinitum. Republics and Empires spread across the galaxies. It was tiresome, it irked her. Lygeia sighed, the sound of it half-buried in a pillow.

A knock on the door forced her attention away from those thoughts. Without a moment's consideration, the female struggled to her feet and ambled towards the door. She pressed in the key codec and allowed in her younger brother.

"You should be sleeping," Lygeia chastised him lightly even before he'd set his second foot within.

Her brother shook his head. "You've felt it too, haven't you?" He stepped past her and entered deeper into the bedroom. "I thought I was dying."

"Don't be silly." They sat down together on the edge of the bed. "It can't kill you." Or if it could, then Lygeia did not know of it. Deeming it wiser to abandon the subject, she stood to her feet and walked to the nightstand, picking up her glass of water. The woman took a sip.

"Will you go with father today?" her brother questioned. Adyr was nothing if not curious and quite miffed at having been told he was not old enough to join his parents and sibling on their errand. Lygeia would call that good fortune.

"I must," she replied softly, working to loosen her hair tie. Once released, she combed her fingers through slightly tangled tresses. "I have talked my way out of the last meeting." Something which her brother had never thought to do.

Lygeia sometimes wished she'd been born after him. It would have done her a world of good. Involving herself in the politics of the New Republic was the last thing she wished for. And yet, as a Coruscanti of the higher echelons it was her lot. There were worse fates.

Adyr rolled his eyes, she saw in the mirror. "You always complain about this."

Mainly because the political scene was wrought with dangers her brother could not imagine. Unwilling to share such information with him, Lygeia merely shook her head. "Is there nothing you would rather do than bother me?"

Adyr grimaced, his reflection doubling the notion. "Your really are sour this morning." He stood up and walked to the door. "Just lock yourself in your room."

The outburst made Lygeia turn to face him. "I would gladly do so, if it were possible." She offered him a thin smile. "I think you should return to your room and try to catch some sleep. It's still early."

Too early for their parents to have woken up certainly and much too much for him to be padding about the house. Her brother gave a sullen nod and took himself off, leaving Lygeia on her own once more.

She collected a couple of towels and went out into the hallway. A BB-905 unit rolled towards her, emitting high pitched noises, presumably in greeting. Lygeia greeted the small droid back quietly. "My brother would not like that you have left his room." But then again, Gylem was probably still asleep. "I will see you later, little one," she promised patting the shiny metal affectionately, although she knew the robot probably could not recognise the meaning of the gesture.

She left the BB-905 where it stood and made her way to the bathroom, quiet as a mouse. With any luck she could be about her business before the household awoke.

Lygeia undressed with short, jerky movements, depositing her clothes in the laundry basket. She entered the shower and allowed a spray of water to come raining down. Upon impact she sucked in a breath. At least afterwards she would feel better, she told herself, leaning her weight against the wall.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sylas Nadora looked at his only daughter, a speculative glint to his gaze. Lygeia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, teeth slowly easing their tight clamp. The bread crunched softly. She chewed and swallowed. "Of course not, father. I have no intention of missing it," she clarified after her mouth was freed. He was still upset with her for last time, she realised, and quite distrusted her explanation. There was nothing to be done about that.

"See that you don't." The warning brushed against her lightly, the threat of its sharp edge sending tremors down her back. He looked away from her to the large screen and Lygeia followed his gaze. There was nothing to see there.

Disappointment coursed through her veins at that. She'd been hoping that she would find out what had happened to upset the careful balance of the force. But on the screen, a fellow Coruscanti reported upon commerce and monetary policies. It was hardly something that she had any need of at the moment. Tuning the voice out, Lygeia returned to her meal.

"You sure know how to placate him," Gylem whispered just as she was swallowing a second bite of her toast. "Are you using your magik on him?"

"Of course not," she protested at her older brother's accusation. It was not as if she could at any rate. Her father would know if she attempted it for one, and secondly, even if she was Force sensitive, that did not mean she could wield it in whichever manner she pleased. She kicked her foot into Gylem's leg lightly, even should the warning be discarded.

"What a bright disposition," the older sibling muttered, clearly amused by her reaction. "You must tell me your secret to such a joyful existence."

A snort left her lips at the exaggeration. "I'm afraid you've missed your calling, brother dear. You should have turned to acting."

Gylem was and had always been glib. Despite not being Force sensitive like his younger siblings, he was by far the most successful of the three. Lygeia was inclined to think it was the very fact that he was in no way tied down by such gifts as the one she and Adyr shared. Not to seem ungrateful that the mystical Force had seen fit to bless her, but she would have rather not had the hassle. Especially not with a family like hers.

Following Coruscanti custom, the Nadoras had been present upon the political scene for a little over fifty generations. But only recently had they acquired Force sensitive individuals within their ranks. It had all started with Lygeia's great-grandmother. The only consolation was that up until recently, it was not something their family had concerned themselves with. Nor were they likely to from the looks of it, no matter that it was an unpleasant gift to bear.

"You would me. I am a magnificent pilot," he countered, eyeing their father who was still looking at the screen. "As opposed to you, who can't even turn on the engine properly."

"That is not true." He raised an eyebrow at the denial. Lygeia huffed. "I just can't drive." And why should she, when she'd have no need of it on Coruscant.

She was about to give him a piece of her own mind when she caught a glimpse of the screen and saw what it was that was being detailed. Lygeia looked up suddenly, startling her brother. He too glanced at the screen, but unlike her he did not make a surprised sound.

Lygeia's heart squeezed painfully. She had known that whatever had happened it could not be good. And right she'd been. The designated capital of the New Republic had been blown to pieces. All inhabitants of the planet gone, nothing remained of them but dust. How could it have happened? In a civilised galaxy as well. It was unthinkable.

"Revolting," her brother said, leaning back in his seat. "The people will not stand for this."

"They will stand for whatever they are told to," his father assured him. He turned the news off. "I see your mother and brother linger abed as always," he muttered, face creasing in displeasure.

"So it would seem."

Lygeia was not concerned with those two, however. They were comfortable and safe. Other, however, had been blown to pieces. "Who could possibly condone such atrocities?" she asked, shaking her head. Even in a war of ideologies, it was pushing matters too far. The evil Empire had thought this method a good one and they had been, in the end, defeated. Surely, it was not too much to believe that the lesson had been learned by those in power.

"Who do you think?" Gylem asked back. "It must be that Order we keep hearing about. Only their like could be so utterly lacking in wits. Mark my words, father, there will be an outcry."

Which was all good and well, but if they lacked the necessary resources, then it did not matter how many people protested such tactics. At any rate it was best not to get involved. Coruscant was safe to the best of Lygeia's knowledge. If there was a war to be fought, then those wishing to wage battle were free to do so on some other planet in a far away galaxy. Lygeia stood to her feet, suddenly not hungry anymore.

The half-eaten piece of toast remained on her plate as she poured herself a cup of water.

"Are you going to finish that?" her brother called over the noise of running water.

"No. You can have it if you want to." Lygeia returned to her seat, cup in hand. She watched as Gylem made short work of her toast, her mind still on the matter of the New Republic. It had been wrong of them to accept the death of the Empire, especially given the circumstances. They needed a leader, someone strong to protect them from both inside and outside threats. The Republic had failed once more.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that would be the end of the prologue. Drop a line if you feel like it.


	2. On The Verge

 

 

 

 

 

Mosa laughed softly at the look on her daughter's face. "There is no need to fear it," she assured with customary nonchalance. "Your father and I were brought together by our parents and look how well our marriage has turned out. Three beautiful children and prospering careers." Of course, that was the Coruscanti custom. Lygeia did not question the wisdom, but rather her own. "Ravin is a nice young man besides. A girl could do a lot worse."

On that they were in agreement. Lygeia had met Ravi once, more accurately she'd seen him from afar at a dinner. They'd not met in person, although, part of the same circles, they did know one another by name. A habit all too wide-spread among the wealthy was that everyone knew everyone and their business even if they were not close.

Truth be told, the young woman was both parts excited and unsettled. She had been the one to delay their meeting with pretence of all manners in hoped of somehow avoiding the whole thing. But the trouble was, Ravi himself was Force sensitive, according to father, and wished to solidify such a gift by marrying an individual of similar constitution. Lygeia could only imagine that it was her father's hand in all this that moved the pieces. For some reason he wished to have Force sensitive grandchildren and fought to ensure the fulfilment of this requirement.

"Mother, do you know, I do feel somewhat faint," she said, as the matronly figure behind her twisted a lock of dark hair, pinning it up. "Perhaps something that will not strain my neck so," Lygeia murmured, realising just what it was that her mother wished to do.

"Nonsense." Mosa continued to work on her daughter's hair, pulling and twisting, until the entirety of it had been arranged in wide loops. "It would be a pity not to show off this beauty." Her best feature as she'd been told.

Lygeia stared at the mirror, lips pursing slightly. She inspected her reflection with a critical eye, trying to determine whether she would be met with success in her endeavour. It was fairly easy, her mission here. She was to act charming and be polite and all else would be taken care of by father. Her part would be helped, without doubt, by her appearance. It was the reason for which her mother was so insistent upon it. It was understandable. Lygeia helped her mother make quick work of the headdress she had brought out for the occasion.

"That should be it." Once again, her eyes were riveted to the woman in the mirror. She truly looked as if she were off on a diplomatic mission. The fashion itself reflected earlier models worn throughout the days of the old Republic. These were considered protocol attire and worn on such special occasions like the negotiation of a marriage.

The wide sleeved of the heavy robe fell together at her front, ornate cuffs glinting in the light. The precious stones shone, beckoning the eyes of whoever happened to look upon her. The sumptuous outfit was sure to raise a few eyebrows.

"I reckon this is how you've felt before meeting father," Lygeia told her mother, looking away from the mirror.

Mosa merely smiled and pulled Lygeia in a tight hug. "I know you'll do very well." Mother let go of daughter so that she might look into the young woman's face. "Just remember what I've told you. All will be well, you'll see."

Lygeia certainly hoped so. She pulled away entirely from her mother's hold and shook out the folds on the robe, removing unseen lint and creases.

The door to her room opened and her father walked in, surveying the result of her preparations. He gave her a nod and held one hand out in invitation. "It is time that we were on our way."

With one last look to her mother, the Coruscanti female gave a weak smile and hurried to her father's side, hand in the crook of his arm. Together they left the household and its members, boarding the light vehicle that was to take them to the point of rendezvous. Father and daughter settled comfortably upon the bench and fell into a hushed conversation.

"Do not mention the news to them," her father warned, referring to what they'd heard that very morning. "It would not do to unduly upset them and risk your chance. If Ravi wishes to speak of politics, then restrain the conversation to this solar system."

"Yes, father," Lygeia answered. "But what if he should mention the incident himself?"

"Show yourself eager to hear the solution he would offer." Her father would know better, as he was acquainted with the young man. Lygeia nodded her head. "And one more thing, there is no need to mention the Force either. That is a private stipulation." This he had fairly whispered in her ear. Once more Lygeia nodded.

The pilot of the small spacecraft paid them little enough mind. Lygeia was certain he cared nothing for their conversation. After all, he must have transported thousands upon thousands of them about and had grown bored with all the talk of politics and arranged marriages that he'd heard up until that point. It was just as well, better not to have to worry about it.

The rest of the journey was conducted in relative silence, but for the melody filling the car. Lygeia leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her fingers twisted in the material of her robes unthinkingly, a sure sign of restlessness. She could not help it. Ravin was not as threatening as all that, but her duty, she had to admit, made her uneasy.

"We're here," her father announced at a long last as the ship halted, jolting the passengers lightly.

Lygeia's eyes flew open. She passed a smile upon her lips and exited through the side door, feet meeting the hard surface of solid floors. The time had come.

As expected, upon entering the massive building, a flurry of movement attacked her vision. Just a step behind her, Sylas took her by the arm and together they navigated through the crowd, to the elevators. Since the meeting had been arranged for quite some time, it never occurred to Lygeia to be suspicious of the fact that they'd not been called to Ezic residence, but rather to a hotel. A tad impersonal, were she to analyse it. Alas the woman did not think about it.

Father and daughter got off on their floor and were dutifully greeted by the groom-to-be and the future father-in-law. Lygeia shook hands with the older man and accepted a token kiss on the cheek from the younger one.

"We were beginning to think you've given up the meeting," Nar Ezic said, clasping a hand to Sylas' shoulder. His eyes however were on Lygeia. He looked her up and down, as if inspecting her. "Are you sure you've brought me the right girl?" he questioned, a smile appearing on his face. For a man nearly twice her age, he had a handsome smile.

Flushing, Lygeia tried to stave her annoyance at the comment. "I am the only daughter my father has," she supplied in a soft voice, trying for a smile of her own. The jest was an old one and she'd heard it over and over again, from many a different person.

"Father," Ravi protested softly and took Lygeia's hand. "You mustn't allow his words to upset you." He smiled down at her. How alike father and son looked. Lygeia gave him a swift nod. It was not anyone's fault that her height would never rival that of a wookie.

"Come, let us sit down," Nar invited, leading the company inside a large room where a table had been set. Six chairs awaited occupants. If the number seemed odd no one commented on it, although Lygeia had to wonder. It seemed pointless a move as could be.

But then they were all seated at the table and she shrugged the thought off in favour of listening to Ravin. "I admit that I myself had my doubts about your identity when you appeared before us," he laughed softly, eyes resting on her profile as she sipped from the proffered cup of sweetened tea. "Such a vibrant appearance."

Smiling behind her cup, the woman moved her head minutely. "I thought to do our meeting justice." Other public appearances were much tamer, but it had to be said they were also of lesser importance. She turned her smile on him. "It is an important moment, would you not agree?"

Something flashed in his gaze, a darkness crept into those wide blue eyes. But just as soon it was gone, leaving behind a doubtful Lygeia. "Of course. I am glad to hear we are of the same mind." One of his hands took hold of hers. Lygeia allowed the contact for a few moments before pulling her hand away gently. To have a virtual stranger holding any part of her was quite peculiar, even in light of current circumstances.

From outside the sound of steps could be heard. Startled, Lygeia looked back just in time to see the door open and a couple of stormtroopers walk in, armed with blasters. Her eyes widened and she made to stand up, but her wrist was swiftly grabbed by the young man sitting beside her. Forced back into her seat with a harsh tug, Lygeia had little recourse but to obey the silent command.

A man lingered in the doorway for a few moments, overlooking the scene. He seemed awfully familiar to the Coruscanti woman but she could not place him. Yet even so, she recognised the emblem of the First Order when she saw it upon his sleeve.

Unblinkingly, Lygeia waited with baited breath for the interloper to stride in. He obliged, one booted foot stepping in front of another. "Greeting, Sylas Nadora and Miss Lygeia. I trust you were adequately entertained."

"General Hux," Lygeia heard her father spit the name out as if it were poison. Clearly, she was missing some pieces of the puzzle. "What is the meaning of this? I have already–"

"The First Order no longer has any need of you," the general spoke over the politician. One of the troopers lifted his blaster, pointing it at her father's forehead. "I suggest you do not move," the villain continued, advancing on Lygeia. He looked down at her, placing one hand on her shoulder. "You are Force sensitive." The words were sneered, as if he did not much care for gifted individuals. Lygeia did not move a muscle.

"She is," Ravin confirmed. "My father and I, we've done our part, surely we are now free to leave."

Hux turned his head towards the young man. "You talk too much." He nodded at one of his soldiers and a moment later Ravin was slumped over, his head on Lygeia's lap, bits of bone and a rivulet of blood accompanying him.

Another shot rang out along with a shrill scream. Lygeia was shocked to find she'd been the one to cry out. She did not need to look for she already knew who the target had been.

But a finger was swiftly pressed to her lips. "Hush. We wouldn't want to cause a stir," the general warned. Trembling all over, Lygeia gulped softly and offered a shallow nod. She looked down at Ravin. Blue eyes stared unseeingly up at her. "Too much knowledge can be dangerous."

The second trooper came up to her and heaved Ravin away, throwing him to the ground. Hux sat down in the young man's place. "You look pale. Here, have something to drink." He pressed a cup of tea into her hands. "Drink." Mechanically, she obeyed the command. "Now, let us talk of business. Nadora, my good man, I hope this is not too much of an inconvenience, but return to your home with my troopers. It would be a pity should something happen to you."

"But, my Lygeia," her father started to protest. Hope bloomed in the daughter's chest that she might leave with him.

It was dashed, however, as Hux held a hand up. "She will be well taken care of, do not worry. The First Order takes care of its own. Supreme Leader Snoke has issued you an invitation, my dear," this he said to Lygeia as her father was being taken out the door. Much too frightened to even blink, the young woman stared at General Hux in confusion.

"I have had no invitation," she managed after a short moment of silence.

"Your father's work." A dreaded feeling crept up upon her at that point. Her father would not be forgiven for his interference. "You are not a child, and he had no right to take the choice from you. But now I am giving you that choice."

If she refused, her father would end up another body on the cold floor. Her whole family perhaps. A stronger person might have found it within themselves to refuse, to spit in the face of such barbaric methods. But Lygeia was not particularly strong, nor in any way equipped to evade the situation.

"Am I to be trained?" she questioned, assuming he would understand her consent had been given.

Hux laughed. "No. You are too old for that." A pity. She might have made a quick business of the matter. "Our Supreme Leader would have you aid us in restoring balance. There has been a disturbance in the Force." Again the sheer. Lygeia got the sense that General Hux was as concerned for the Force as his boot would be for ants it stepped on.

"How would I accomplish that?"Fear gnawed at her. What if she failed?

"With ease," Hux said, standing up. He held one hand out for her to take.

"If the Supreme Leader is searching for Force sensitive individuals, then you have robbed him of one," he looked at Ravin upon speaking.

The general shook his head, but offered no other clarification on that matter. "My men will take you home where you are to wait for further instructions. Is that understood?"

The glaring danger of a blaster the insides of her head to mush had Lygeia nodding frantically. "Of course."

She was passed to one of the stormtroppers, while another walked before them. Hux came behind, looking for all the world like he hadn't just murdered a couple of men in cold blood. Lygeia's stomach churned unpleasantly. Still, she struggled to keep walking all the while, fear as good an incentive as any other.

Led to a small craft, she was invited inside, along with a couple of stormtroopers. The pilot had been specially chosen, she reckoned, as the man did not even glance at her. Lygeia looked down at her lap, eyeing the blood stains. Her lower lip trembled, the horrifying truth wrapping its fingers around her tightly. She held back a sob, fingers coming to form a barrier against her lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gylem's angry gaze and her own father's guilty expression put Lygeia ill at ease. "How could you?" her brother yelled. "You knew it was dangerous." She had not expected this to be the scene greeting her upon arrival. Alas, it was no dream.

"Gylem, don't blame father," she cut in, grabbing onto her older brother's arm. "It was a plot. They've been planning this. That much is clear." Whether or not father had been right to arrange a union even with the suspicion of it was another discussion. Lygeia pulled on Gylem's wrist. "This isn't helping."

"What would help?" he growled at her, shaking her hold off. "Do you want to be taken away and used by the likes of the First Order?" His anger was a living, breathing thing; Lygeia shrank away from him. "Tell me. Tell me!"

"Enough," their father intervened between the two of them, splitting them apart. "Lygeia, I needn't your protection in this. Gylem, stop this and sit down." The stormtroopers outside the door could at any moment come in. He was right. They needed to maintain a calm appearance, at least. "Your sister has accepted a position with the Order and that is that."

Not to her brother, Lygeia could see. Gylem sat down, but by the look on his face, she was rather sure he'd not given up the thought of somehow extricating her from the situation. If only he could be careful about it. Lygeia said not a thing though. Perhaps later, when they were safer. She was still in the dark as to what was desired of her by the Order. Once she had that piece of information she could perhaps free herself of the responsibility. If not, well, her brother would have to live with the knowledge of his sister serving the Order. She did not plan to have them all murdered.

"Has General Hux told you anything?" her father questioned. His outwards appearance was a mask of calmness much to Lygeia's relief. If he were to show his concern, she would certainly panic and be of no use. "Anything at all about your role in the Order?"

"Nothing that might mean anything. He claimed I was among those called to restore the balance of the Force." In any other words, it might take a mind reader to figure it out. Lygeia sighed. "I do not understand why us."

"It's anyone's guess," Sylas offered.

There were quite a few possibilities, but none fit. Certainly, Lygeia could feel the Force, but she'd not been trained. According to General Hux the Order did not plan to train her either, so that left her with the bare minimum she knew and in no position to make an accurate guess. Or it could be that they needed her in her capacity upon the political stage. Hadn't the Empire employed charisma in its ascension to power? However, Lygeia was not the one most embroiled in matters of the state; that would be her father. It made little sense to target her as anything but a hostage.

Yet here they were. Here she was. If there was any lesson to be learned from it then that had to be that the family business was not at all suitable for her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her wait was not particularly long. Lygeia was given a few days between the failed betrothal negotiations and the removal to wherever it was that General Hux wished to take her. At the very least she'd had time to make mild preparations for what was to follow. Small mercies, she considered as a stranger crossed the threshold of the door into her home.

This man she'd not seen before. He had not been with Hux when the general had proceeded to murder innocents. Lygeia looked at the stranger with empty eyes, in no way tempted to place herself anywhere closer to him. It was a pity truly that he did not care.

"Lygeia Nadora," he called her, eyes lingering on her face. His gaze fairly burned her skin. Lygeia nodded her head, opting to keep her silence for as long as humanly possible. "Are'n Ren at your service." He did not bow to her, but then again she'd not expected it of him. Truth be told, he had a pleasant enough visage. Were it not for the cruel cut of his grin, he might have been deemed handsome. "The Supreme Leader is most glad to have you among his own."

Lowering her gaze to the ground, the woman blinked slowly. It was no use saying anything, when she herself was not glad for it. Instead, Lygeia attempted to calm the erratic beats of her heart. She was all alone with the man.

"Wookie got your tongue?" the stranger drawled. Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "Very well then. Come, girl, I do not have the whole day to waste on you." What a charming personality, Lygeia thought to herself. She followed the man to the door, hoping that the rest of her family kept to their rooms as had been agreed between them.

Her brother's droid bleeped loudly. Lygeia turned to shoo it away, fearing, rather ironically, injury to its shiny surface should they annoy the man sent after her. But the small robot did not even manage to reach closer than a few paces away from her before an invisible force drove it backwards, crashing the metallic frame into the low table in the middle of the room.

"Only she is coming," the Order's creature announced in a perfectly calm manner. The droid produced a couple of sounds that sounded like it might be arguing.

Lygeia spoke over it to cover the noise. "Are we leaving then, or are we to remain here until nightfall?"

Only too late did she realise it had been the wrong thing to do. A sharp pain tore through her chest and Lygeia fell to her knees. Her heart was being force to slow down its speed. Over the rush of flood and the dizziness she heard Are'n Ren speak. "You are necessary, not irreplaceable however. You had best keep that in mind when speaking to a knight of Ren."

And then he released her from the power of the Force, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her to her feet.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's about it for establishing the OC. Let's move on to the actual story. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of it.


	3. In The Evening Hush

The shiny protocol droid advanced on stiff legs, arms moving in unnaturally large arches. "I am P-5YQ and I will act as your guide," the unit informed in a clear voice. It extended out one hand, allowing Lygeia to inspect the joints of its fingers. She had seen 5YQ units before and this one was a heavily modified model. Although she had to admit the effect was a positive one. "Your baggage, Madame."

"I have none." It had not occurred to her that she might need anything, especially given that the whole thing seemed to have been planned. The practical aspects of her dwelling somewhere other than her home was not a subject meriting attention, at least not for as long as she was in the hold of the Order.

Upon registering her reply, the robot lowered his arm and turned around. "Follow me. I will take you to your assigned room."

Supposing that she truly was to be given a room and not a prison cell, it would do her well to try getting her hands on some sort of map of the place. Lygeia looked at her surroundings. Unfortunately, like most great ships, this one had little in the way of distinctive marks. The panels all looked new and the circuits looked to be of the newest kind. Yet there was nothing by which she might guide herself.

"Where exactly is my room located?" she asked the droid walking in front of her. Lygeia found it that much easier to communicate with life forms, or rather nonlife forms, when they were made up of circuits and metal parts. Artificiality suited her just fine.

"In the East wing of the ship, Madame. I will lead the way." Curious. He'd not simply left the answer at the strictly necessary.

The corridor ended in another one and P-5YQ simply followed the new path, leading her along. It seemed that the East wing was dominated by the living quarters. Not only where her own would be, but where others were as well. Lygeia spied from the corner of her eye another humanoid looking creature. Tall and thin as a spear, the female alien was watching her unabashedly, a droid at her own side.

"Who is that?" Lygeia could not help but ask of her own metallic unit. Her head turned fully to the other, their eyes meeting.

"Harosh Nazin, a guest of the Supreme Leader Snoke." The alien female turned around and entered a well-lit room. The door closed in her wake. The droid Lygeia had presumed to be hers remained outside. "Come, Madame, your room is this way.

"Does your leader have many guests?" It was impossible to tell how many rooms had been let and what life forms inhabited those who had. But the wing did not look as if it housed the stormtroopers The doors were too far apart and there were too many droids about.

"I am prohibited from giving such information." The droid stopped at a long last in front of a door. "This is your room, Madame. I shall be outside the door at all times. If there is anything you are in need of, please let me know. Step inside, Madame," he followed, pressing in a code on the pad. Despite trying to make out the numbers, Lygeia could not see the numbers.

She walked inside the small chamber and looked around curiously, fingers reaching out to touch the wall. The door shut behind her with a loud clicking noise. Lygeia did not look over her shoulder. Instead she stepped further into her new room.

In Spartan fashion, she had been offered a bed, a chair and a desk. The bed was a small affair, narrow and long, enough to accommodate one person comfortably. The chair rested against the wall, short and rather stout, its rounded back betrayed a design for comfort. As for the desk, it was wide enough to allow a hologram pad on it, but not much else.

There was another door, which she presumed led to a bathroom. The theory was swiftly confirmed. Neat and clean, the small space would serve very well.

Lygeia shut the door and sat down on the bed, unsure of what to do. She could, presumably, ask the droid at her door for reading material or possibly news, but who knew what its instructions actually were. Could she risk the wrath of her captors? Should she?

Allowing herself to fall on her back, the woman stared up at the ceiling. The dim light flickered lightly, its blue tint of no particular help. What was it with these ships and lights that were not actually lights? Lygeia wondered if it would have been such a hardship to have installed in her room a light like she'd seen in the other woman's.

Had she had the power, Lygeia would have been surprised at how fast sleep gained upon her. She had slept long hours even before the First Order had delivered on their invitation. It made little sense to be so eager. The shock, she considered, might well be the source. The woman closed her eyes, heavy lids pressing together firmly.

It was in her dreams that she saw it. The sea. Coruscant had no sea, but there was a most beautiful stretch of water on Corellia. She had seen it once, the waves lapping at the shore. And in the dream she had returned to that same beach. Lygeia sat down upon the smooth ground and stretched her legs out before her.

The sun was high in the sky, shining down a benevolent light upon her. Lygeia smiled up at the sky.

The only oddity was that there were no other creatures about. On such a nice day too. When she had gone there, in her days of childhood, it had been nearly a crush. Yet a decade past there was not a soul to be found. Perhaps it had to do with it being a dream.

After she'd had her fill of sitting in the sand, the woman stood to her feet and dusted herself off. With slow steps she walked towards the shoreline and stood rooted as salty water washed over her shoeless feet. Icy little needles stabbed the thin skin making her shiver. She had not realised it could be so pleasant.

The clear blue vastness called out to her. Without much thought, Lygeia gave in to the impulse and walked deeper into the rushing, foaming waves, surrounded from all sides by the sea. On and on she advanced until nothing but her head remained at the surface. Her hands reached out, as if to grip some invisible object before her. There was nothing but flowing liquid however. Her feet moved of their own accord. Forwards still until her chin and lips and nose and eyes up to the top of her head were lost beneath the surface.

Being in the cool embrace of the sea, she looked with wide eyes at the distorted world. For, unlike she had imagined, the thin layer separating the surface from the marine world did not hide sand and small fish. Beneath her feet a whole world had been lain out, spread all about for her perusal.

Curiosity swept her away and Lygeia dived deeper, swimming towards that unknown point upon which she would find another surface. The father she went, however, the harder it became to advance. Still, unwilling to return to the spaceship, her new living quarters and the droid in whose care she'd been left, the Coruscanti pressed on, forcing her limbs into wide, swallowing motions. It took nearly all her will and perseverance to keep on course, but somehow she managed, despite the pain that had begun to spread through her arms and legs, to reach the second surface.

Breaking through the veneer, Lygeia was met with a shrill cry coming from somewhere ahead. Much like a ghost a vessel approached, its form pushing through a thick veil of mist. It hovered just above sea level, flying low. Lygeia could only wonder if it was hiding from pursuers. She hadn't the chance to find out though.

Before she could make up her mind on whether to swim for it or away, something hooked around her ankle and dragged her down, into the freezing water. The force of the pull coupled with it suddenness knocked the wind out of her.

Swallowing a mouthful of water, she coughed violently, her hands moving about wildly in an attempt at escape. She was thwarted; even with the best of efforts, her frame fell prey to the merciless descent. Weighed down by heavy limbs and crushing despair, all fight fled the sinking body. Even if she were to disappear without a trace, it would make no matter. Ever so slowly her gaze lost focus, dulling, hazing over, covered by flowing tendrils.

Lygeia was fairly certain that the last breath had been drawn from her body when her eyes snapped open and she jumped off of the bed. Spindly legs could only be of so much help, however, before she found herself upon the ground, indignant and graceless, like a powerless babe still new to the experience of living.

She took a few moments to gain her bearings, harsh breathing dwindling until there was hardly a sound in the chamber. Once the woman felt confident enough she braced herself on covered arms and pushed her weight up, standing from the ground. It had been a simple dream, nothing more. Or so Lygeia strove to convince herself in the aftermath.

In fact, she was rather uncertain as to what it was that she'd actually seen beyond the beach and the sea. The hovering ship did not look familiar, nor had she any sort of knowledge about the second world she had surfaced it. It might well have been a made up universe her mind had built upon remnants of memories, fuelled by disconcert at being dragged away from her home.

Satisfied with such an explanation, she dusted herself off and walked to the door, knocking softly on its metal frame in hoped of catching the attention of the droid. Of course, it should not have been something difficult to do, given that these robots did not sleep. Case in point, the door clicked open and her unit in service walked in.

"You have called, Madame," it said, standing before her, perfectly straight and composed, in stark opposition to her dishevelled state. "It is good that you are awake."

With an air of decided unease, Lygeia rolled her shoulders. "Indeed. I want to walk outside." It was not entirely wise, she knew, to expose herself so carelessly, but she could not stay cooped up in the small room for however long she would be on this ship.

"Negative. It is time to present yourself to the medical wing," the droid informed her, voice flat. It stared at her through luminous goggles. Lygeia held little doubt that the cameras transmitted the images captures to some supervisor aboard the ship. However, she was less concerned with the matter upon hearing that she had an appointment with the medical staff.

"I am not ill," Lygeia protested, holding one hand up defensively. "There is no need for me to visit your med wing."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, a stormtrooper appeared in the doorway, armed with the standard blaster. "Resistance is futile," the man warned, raising his weapon a smidge. "They are expecting you."

If she tried fleeing, she was likely to end up in the med wing for more than a once over, the woman contemplated as she stepped over to the trooper. "Very well then." Her grudging agreement earned her a nod.

In the hallway even more people had gathered. All were females, joined by protocol droids. "Is the Supreme Leader hosting a banquet?" she quipped softly under her breath, more to amuse herself than to receive an answer.

However, the soldier at her side heard her. "That is none of your concern," he replied, grabbing her by the shoulder and pushing her forth gently. "Proceed."

Away she was led.

The med wing was not so much a wing-proper as it was a string of three wide chambers where medical droids and two humans laboured. The trooper pressed his blaster in the small of her back, urging her on silently. Lygeia hid her frustration behind a mask of indifference and walked into the well lit room.

"Lygeia Nadora?" the first member of the staff asked upon meeting her gaze.

"Yes," she confirmed a moment later, her back still aching as the blaster bit into her skin.

"Have a seat," the man invited, pointing to a recliner.

Without a peep of protest, she sat down in the medical chair, leaning back. The discomforting quality of her current state lingered as she looked at their preparations. It was not much, but Lygeia could only stare dubiously at the syringes and vials. Not daring to question them, however, she was obliged to wait, mind whirling with possibilities, each and every one of them more horrifying that the other.

When at last the wait came to an end, it brought her no relief.

The second man, the one who'd not spoken to her, took her hand, baring her arm up to the elbow. "You will be asked a few questions. Answer them honestly," he instructed softly, tying her arm just above the elbow tightly.

"You are a native of Coruscant, species human?" can the first question, giving Lygeia barely enough time to digest her predicament.

"I am." She prayed it would be one of those establishing questionnaires, mean to discomfort her rather than land her in trouble.

How many children are there in your family?" the man followed, not missing a beat.

"Three," she replied, hissing in dismay a moment later when she felt her skin being pierced by a rather thick needle. Lygeia looked away from the one handling the collecting. Having her blood taken had always made her feel lightheaded.

"Any diseased, chronic or genetic, that you are aware of in your family?" When she glanced dumbly up at him, the man repeated the question, stressing ever word. He was not best pleased with his line of work, Lygeia could tell.

Mustering up all her concentration, she shook her head. "Not to my knowledge." Although they should have been aware of all that when they took her aboard their ship. Lygeia suspected the questioning was only for show.

She wondered if any of the other women she had seen had gone through something similar even as the man with the writing pad continued through his battery of questions. Uncomfortable as some of them were, answering those questions was preferable to a good few other treatments she could have been subjected to,

The needle was pulled out from her arm and the small ensuing wound was swiftly covered. "That should do it," the man with the syringe muttered. "I've got what I needed."

The other nodded his head. "That would be all."

Just as she was about to stand to her feet though, an unexpected event occurred.

At first, Lygeia thought it might be that knight who had come for her on Coruscant when a swirling pitch black cape appear in the med wing out of all the places. She was relieved to find it not to be the case, but not necessarily at ease. It was true that she could still feel the force of the knight's attack, yet this other one did not strike her as particularly better behaved.

"Master Kylo," one of the droids effortlessly cut into Lygeia's line of vision, distracting her from the sight of a caped, helmet wearing and all around menacing looking figure.

He, on the other hand, took no notice of her. Or if he did, he didn't show it. It seemed he held little interest outside his own business. Perhaps it was customary for the First Order to be bringing on people they had no conceivable need of, however, and she was mistaking indifference born out of lack of care with indifference born out of habit.

Her musing might have gone on for some time more were it not for the fact that the stranger, Kylo according to the med droid, sharply turned his face towards her. Lygeia jumped in her seat, concerned bewilderment bleeding through into her expression. Muscles pulled taut and she struggled to keep still. There was little to observe given that the man's face was obstructed. No eyes, no mouth, nothing at all. It was as if he was a droid himself.

Presumably he was analysing her carefully for his face remained turned towards her inert form long moments before returning his attention to the droid. "The pain reliever serum." Not even his voice sounded human, even remotely so.

It occurred to Lygeia that it must have been somewhat modified to come out as gravely and deep as it had. But just as her interest was sparked, his dwindled and bled away into unconcern, seemingly adequately fulfilled by that one glance. Whether she should praise the Force or expect more hardship, Lygeia remained undecided, suspended between natural suspicion and heart wrenching relief. With considerable effort, she resisted the urge to move even after he had left, striding away without as much as glance backwards.

Left with the baleful taste of dread sticking to the back of her throat, Lygeia coughed softly, as if to dislodge it like something stuck, and not the immaterial feeling that it was. The failure was not unexpected, yet remained disheartening for all that. Striving to find some sort of balance, she climbed to her feet at the nod of one of the medics.

"You may leave, miss," the assurance came. A tad too late for her taste, but the saying still held true that it was better late than never.

"Let's go," the trooper cut in, apparently on strict orders to wait for her.

The departing knight, however, still had Snoke's honoured guest on his mind as he made his way to the quarter assigned to him. He was still dissecting the nameless woman even as he entered the chamber, door clicking shut behind him.

How utterly laughable. Kylo had not expected to meet any of the leader's guests in the med wing. But now that he had and a better idea regarding them had begun forming in his mind, he could hardly deny that it was more amusing than anything else. How were these force sensitive individuals to help when they could barely sit straight in the presence of a Jedi.

Like the woman he had encountered. Such a skittish thing. Were he to unleash his lightsabre before her, she would have surely fallen into a swoon. As for her connection to the Force, it was a tenuous bond, at best, that had little to offer aside from a whispered companionship. He had felt it. That close to her, it could not be avoided.

Certainly it was what attracted his attention in the first place. That whispered presence. The light. The flare of it had taken him by surprise. He had been indescribably glad when it was quashed beneath waves of fear. A little nobody with barely any connection to the Force had as much right to beckon him to the light side as those rebels siding with the Republic had to live. She was part of the test, Kylo supposed. That was the only reason Supreme Leader Snoke would have had to bring such a useless creature on his ship.

For a brief moment, as he'd been probing her mind Kylo had had considered crushing every thought and feeling out of her for mere spite. People like her, they were most likely to take the path of the Jedi, to cling to the light when such a road could only lead to chaos. Disgust rolled through him at the though. And anger, familiar and strong, feeding the Force within him. His grandfather had been right to turn to the Dark side.

Darth Vader's decaying mask sat upon the low table in his room. Uneven gauges stared up at him blankly, the emptiness compelling in its very silence. It called to him, sweet as a siren's song. The blood thrummed in his veins, a soaring desire for greatness taking over. He would not be defeated in his purpose. Never again would he face the same humiliation he'd been dealt by that scavenger and her traitor stormtrooper. The next he saw them he would show those two exactly what it was to be opposing a true master of the art of battle.

They had caught him unawares, was all. His injuries had worked out to their advantage. But never again would they have that sort of luck.

Drawing out his lightsabre, the knight cut through the air, testing his grip. Once he was fully recovered, he would have his retribution.

The sabre cut through one of the chairs, the halves falling to the ground with a satisfying thud.

Kicking away at the wreckage, Kylo put aside his weapon, momentarily appeased. He would be feeling even better when it was flesh that he slashed apart. He took off his helmet and placed it on the table next to his grandfather's, admiring the two of them side by side.

"They can try all their tricks, but I won't fall for it," he promised to the ruined artefact, eyes lingering affectionately over the trembling lines. "I will make you proud, grandfather."

One way or another, he would win. He would fulfil his destiny, he would carry on Darth Vader's legacy. And the Republic would be once and forever crushed. The ideals it promoted would be lost, all its greed and self-indulgence bled away until not even a husk remained. It was important to have it all cast out, to burn it down to the ground and from the ashes give rise to the new Empire. All living creatures would come to agree in time with the First Order.

And those who did not, they would suffer the consequences. People like his parents, men and women who were unwilling to look past the restrained sphere of their own personal needs and comforts, they opposed such changes. Alterations that could be beneficial to all. They would keep chained to the idyllic myth of a perfect republic where every creature had a say.

That was not so. Even within their precious counsels, it was the wealthy that had a say. They controlled every little thing. And with characteristic shamelessness they would appear before the masses and lie. They were ever so good at lying. Their one true quality. Kylo had seen it time and again. And he would not stand for it.

But with the Empire such would not have to be endured. These filthy, disgusting hypocrites who dared call themselves representatives of the people would be put back in their place. It was not permissible that they should be given the option of living off of the hard work of others. Snoke had showed him Vader's vision of the world, a balanced universe where one's position was in accordance with one's worth, a place where stability ruled. No man would abuse another in such a world.

Kylo had seen it and he wanted it for his own. And by the Force, he would build it with his own two hands.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when this door opened and Captain Phasma spoke out calmly. "I was sent to collect you. The Supreme Leader wishes to have words." Her masked features gave nothing away. Then again, it was the way of the captain to be silent and guarded. It was for the best.

Kylo nodded his head, picking up his own helmet. He covered his face, hiding away the last remnants of a man whose face he couldn't stand.

"Let us be on our way then." He made his way into the corridor, standing to the captain's right. Individuals like Phasma were the ones deserving of respect.


	4. Water Under The Bridge

 

 

 

 

 

"What is your name, trooper?" Lygeia dared ask the third time the same stormtrooper came to her door, to see her from one side of the ship to another. Her own personal escort, she thought with a hint of derision.

The soldiers of the First Order all looked the same, from the top of their helmets to the bottom of their shoes. Not a difference was to be noted among them. It was both riveting and terrifying how a handful of men could be depersonalised in such a manner and allow it as if it meant not a thing.

"FN-2134," the trooper replied curtly, motioning her outside the room.

Lygeia had to wonder, was he a clone? The old Empire had used clones in its army, that much was known throughout the realm. But matters had been somewhat changed since then. It was plausible that the vast majority if these fighters were men in their own right and not the copy of some bounty hunter or warrior. Yet he identified as a set of letters and numbers, nothing remotely human about them. He might as well have been a droid.

"That is not a name," she whispered to herself, feeling somewhat saddened by the revelation. Nonetheless, she followed the trooper as he led her through a maze of corridors, her droid walking behind them without so much as a sound.

She had never much enjoyed talking. At home she'd been content to let others speak. But on this ship matters stood differently. The silence was crushing, its weight much like a stone tied to the legs of the drowning man. It was disconcerting to be viewed as nothing but part of the scenery. Lygeia had been hoping that by communicating with some of the other inhabitants she might ward off thee loneliness, but that was not allowed. So all she had were the troopers, more accurately the trooper walking ahead of her.

Having not been told where it was that she was being taken, the woman became understandably suspicious when led to an elevator. Despite her ardent wish to refuse, Lygeia, ever aware of cutting laser beam, made her way inside. The stormtrooper followed her in without a word, her droid remaining outside. He then pushed the button for a floor that was not marked win any number to the female's distress. Unmarked floors, she knew from her father, usually contained information or at least housed individuals knowledgeable enough to pose a threat.

However much she would have liked to stop where they were and demand that she be taken back to her room, Lygeia abstained. And better that she had, for their short trip came to an end abruptly. The door of the elevator parted and she stepped into a dimly lit hallway. FN-2134 pressed her forthwith carefully controlled insistence until they had reached door which, without waiting to be given codes or the like parted.

"In you go," the trooper said, giving her a light shove.

Lygeia, who had expected as much, strode in, not minding the door clicking shut in her wake. She did, however, mind the shadowed figure sitting in a chair, at the end of the room. A shiver went up her spine at the gaunt, bony face lifting itself towards her. She could make very little out, beside the fact that it was no human standing before her.

"Sit," the creature ordered, his voice neither inviting nor pleasant. Lygeia tried to resist the urge to obey, but the more she struggled against it, the less her body listened to her demands. The man before her chuckled. "It is useless to oppose me. Do not try."

Gritting her teeth in impotent rage, the woman was seated in a comfortable chair mere moments later. Despite her misgiving, Lygeia held on to that small drop of defiance left. She hid it among her own thoughts and looked at the person seating opposite of her.

Thus far she had been subjected to medical tests and tests of her ability using the Force. Had it finally come the time for her to prove mental viability as well? If so, could she possibly cheat on this and be on her way home? The pleasantness of the latter served to lift her disposition a little, but it was swiftly crushed by the other occupant of the room.

"You are never returning to Coruscant," he assured her, stone-faced. "It is time that you learn of your role here." Not at all what she wished to know, but Lygeia offered no protest. "Our Supreme Leader has long contemplated the matter and a conclusion has been reached that the Jedi Order should never wake once again.

"Luke Skywalker was the last Jedi," Lygeia interrupted boldly. All the galaxy knew that Skywalker had disappeared and he'd left no one in his stead. "The Jedi Order is already gone."

"The risk exists with individuals of your like." Fear wormed its way inside her heart."It is why Supreme Leader Snoke gives you a choice."

What choice? Lygeia could not believe what she was hearing. She'd already been ripped away from her family, thrown into an existence she wanted no part of, forced to join an order that ran counter to her own beliefs and now she had to make one of those choices again. "I am already the guest of your Supreme Leader."

For an answer, a reading pad was pushed into her hands by a man entering through a side door as if on cue. She looked down at the first line and confusion gripped her. Alas, she continued to read until her eyes found the name of her grandfather.

It was a contract of sorts, but it was the contents which were most controversial. It had been signed between her grandfather and a man whose name meant nothing to her. Within it a promise of aid was detailed. Not only was the help of her grandfather guaranteed, but that of four generations to come as well. Still, it was not a promise she herself had made.

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?" she asked, pushing the small tablet away from her.

The unknown male laughed. "Your grandfather was a staunch supporter of the Empire. Your own father in his days of youth sympathised with the very same Empire. Even if he has turned away from us, we are willing to offer you another chance. Protect your family."

"What exactly would you have me do?" These people would end up driving her insane, she was certain. And if they did not, she would find a way to do it to herself. Why could they not understand that she could be of no help to them? Lygeia blinked slowly, hands balled into fists on her lap.

"Your midi-chlorian count is a little over five thousand. Mediocre at best, however, the number guarantees that you may still use the Force in some capacity." He smiled at her, revealing rows of sharp, pointy teeth. "We do not ask for much." It was one of those answers that raised more questions than before. But Lygeia could already see that the interview was over. The man stood to his feet. "You shall be informed of the rest at a later time. For now, know that you are allowed to roam the halls of the east wing. You may not leave it, however, unless escorted."

She nodded her head and climbed to her feet, the distinct notion that she'd sealed her fate crawling over her. "If I were to refuse the Supreme Leader, what would be the outcome?"

The alien shook his head. "Termination for your family. You would simply be used in another capacity." Not very far from what she had expected, truth be told. "You are not thinking of refusing, are you?"

"Not at all." Not under these terms at any rate. Better to remain as she was for the moment and find some weakness later. After all, she was now allowed to gallivant through one wing of the ship. In time, they might slack the bonds even more.

Given back into the custody of the stormtrooper, Lygeia was given enough spare time to contemplate the new pieces of the puzzle she had found. It seemed that the more she remained within the bowels of this dratted ship, the better her situation became, in terms of liberty of movement. Of course, she could not know how much they would allow in the future, but it remained that in a short amount of time there had been improvement.

What irked was that she herself had not done anything to merit such a change in treatment. Certainly, she'd been obedient, but the woman did not presume her captors to be fools. Need had pushed for such an attitude. When need disappeared, so would her compliance. The situation called for contemplation and analysis. Lygeia looked at the stormtrooper and wondered if she ought to ask him. If only she could access her magik, as her brother would call it.

"Stormtrooper," she called for the man's attention as they cleared a more populated area of the ship. Her gaoler looked at her through dark goggles, as if to say he was not at all interested in anymore of her questions. "You will tell me why the change in my regime has occurred." Her heart thudded in her chest when he did not answer immediately. Eyes widening slightly, she waited with baited breath.

"I will tell you nothing," he let her know in no uncertain terms, squashing the flicker of hope.

"You will tell me," she insisted nonetheless, concentrating on his covered face. Sometimes it helped. She could only hold onto the belief that it would not fail her. "You will tell me what you know of this."

"I will tell you–" the trooper began to say but was interrupted by a couple of his fellow stormtroopers grabbing him by both arms and dragging him away.

Lygeia experienced a moment of terror as a powerful hang gripped her by the shoulder, forcing her body around. She found herself staring in the face, if it could be called that, of Kylo Ren. The very same man she'd seen in the med wing.

"Attempt that or any other similar action again and you will find that the Force is with the strong." He was not simply speaking though. If she would try using mind tricks on his troopers it would not be long until she felt confident enough to try it on the higher positioned individuals. That could not be allowed to happen. He had to know the exact extent of her control.

Rifling through her memories with as much finesse as a heard of stomping aurochs, he pushes aside visions upon visions until he'd finally reached the one he needed. A small whimper drew forth from her lips. He did not pay that any mind, however.

"Pathetic," he declared after a few moments, releasing her from the bind. Her trembling form did little to impress him. In fact, the more visible the shakes became, the more annoyed he grew with her. Such a weak creature. Resisting the urge to cut her clean in half, Kylo took hold of her jaw and forced her to gaze at him. "I should terminate you." Her pants were the only reply he got.

That scavenger had attempted a similar trick. It was just as well that the lesson had been learned, Kylo considered, his eyes boring into the woman's face. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine that it was the scavenger in her place. His fingers tightened their grip and his captive produced a feeble sound of distress. This one was weaker, lacked defiance and fire. There was little enough satisfaction to be found in defeating the likes of her.

With a whip-quick movement, he pushed her backwards. The female landed against the wall, bracing herself on quivering arms momentarily, before they gave way and she leaned precariously to the side. Kylo had no pity for the likes of her though. "Remember this," he warned. Motioning towards a couple of stormtroopers, he disposed of the bewildered creature. "Take her to her room."

"That was uncalled for," a soft voice said from behind him. Kylo did not need to turn in order to see who it was that spoke. He likewise gave no reply. It was his own problem how he dealt with the likes of that woman. "The Supreme Leader brought her here so she might serve to the completion of your training. Don't ruin her before it can be accomplished."

In no mood to entertain Harosh and her babbling, he simply turned his masked face towards her in warning. The female gave him a thin smile, razor-sharp and twice as dangerous. She continued. "Come, do not disappoint my father now."

He had never liked her. Kylo stared at the alien in complete silence. She might be the child of their Supreme Leader and she might have her use on the political scene, but that did not mean he must be in agreement with her. The human female was useless and that was that. "I have matters to attend to," he said in the end, eager to depart the presence of Harosh. She could entertain herself for all he cared.

"Wait, Kylo Ren, don't walk away from me," the woman laughed lightly.

But he was already gone. Her games had always been predictable, the play of an over-indulged child protected only by the strength of her father. It was a pity that the Force was not stronger with her or she might have had real use. As it stood, she existed to oversee treaties and contracts. A politician though and through. Harosh did not concern him, however. What he did want to know was what had prompted the sudden interest in the human female and why the leader considered her important.

With that in mind, Kylo made his way to the medical wing. One of the droids greeted him respectfully, the small unit advancing on him. "How may I be on use?" it asked, no doubt scanning for any reopening of his wounds. Kylo would be lying to say the injuries no longer bothered him, but he pushed that to the back of his mind.

"Bring me your files on the guests aboard this ship," he demanded softly, sitting down in one of the chairs, ignoring the medical staff. They knew better than to bother him.

The droid complied, pulling out the necessary files on a small tablet. Kylo took it and sifted through the information, searching for a match with the female he had seen. She was one of the never additions, as he found her only at the end.

Much like he had thought. She was the daughter of an influential family, based on Coruscant. It made sense that her attachment to the Force would be nearly insubstantial. The file mentioned little beside a short medical history and data which had no relevance to him. There was still very little explanation as to what her role was to be. For the moment, however, it would have to be enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You are too quick to judge," Snoke said, fingers tapping rhythmically across his kneecap. He knew that Kylo was displeased with the arrival of this newest guest. Glad that his plan was working out exactly as it ought to, the leader kept on his icy demeanour. "The woman is useful. Especially so where you are going."

"Master, I am hardly in a state to go anywhere," the disciple pointed out needlessly. His unhealed wounds would not permit him too much freedom of movement. It was good that what Snoke had in mind did not involve a lot of that.

Waving away those concerns, the supreme leader demanded his follower's attention. "You state is of no consequence." The hologram of a map appeared between them. "See that there?" the alien questioned, pointing to a lone planet. "That is Dagobah, from the system carrying its name. It is there that you will finish what we have begun together."

Recognition dawned upon Kylo as the name sunk in. Luke Skywalker had mentioned Dagobah. At that particular memory, hate simmered in his veins. "Why would I wish to travel to such a place?" His old master had spoken of a great Jedi knight who had lived there, Yoda by name. It was all the more reason to avoid the planet. The Force had left a mark there, and not in favour of the Dark side. "There is nothing on Dagobah to merit our attention."

"And here it is that you err." Snoke leaned slightly forth. "There is one spot that deserves our attention. A focal point concentrating a great deal of Force, and all of it stemming from the Dark side. That is where you must go." The hologram image delved deeper and deeper until it reached the surface of the planet, presenting to Kylo the exact spot. "Exposure will increase your own strength. And we shall not have a repeat of less stellar moments."

Being reminded of his failure did nothing to improve Kylo's mood. He accepted the implied criticism nonetheless. His fingers, however, moved of their own accord to grip the hilt of his lightsabre. Not so much to draw the weapon as to find some comfort in its material form. He nodded his head in response to the supreme leader. Yet confusion still lingered. "And the woman?"

"There is light in her, enough of it to call to the darkness. Now you have found her use." There was nothing to suggest that Snoke played tricks.

Kylo gritted his teeth at that. "Is there no one else?" The thought that he might have to keep company with her for an uncertain amount of time rubbed him wrong.

"No one we can locate and pick without causing unnecessary uproar. Do not question me upon this matter," his master ordered. "You are to leave as soon as the woman is brought to you. A small craft has already been prepared, especially for this purpose."

The command clear, Kylo had little recourse but to bend his will to that of his master's and accept that he would need to mind that human female and her irksome frailty.

As promised, a ship had been prepared for his departure. A small affair, piloted with ease by one individual awaited in, surrounded by a number of stormtroopers. Kylo searched for the one holding the woman, but she had yet to arrive. Biting back an imprecation standing on the tip of his tongue, he glanced towards the far end of the corridor as the sounds of heavy steps registered in his mind.

And there they were. Flanked by stormtroopers, the human woman walked with a slow, seemingly exhausted gait. Even with the distance between them, Kylo was alert to her small twitches and the sliver of fear made apparent by the worried lines of her face.

He was staring.

It only registered to him that he'd been insistently glaring at the woman when she shifted her head to stare back at him. Unwilling to allow her even an inch, he refused to look away. But she, apparently, had no qualms with being on the losing side, for her gaze fell away to meet the top of her footwear. He glowered, unseen behind his helmet. It had little effect on the female, for she would rather concern herself with the state of the floors than look at him. Given that no bond could be established in such conditions, Kylo had to make do with what was being offered. After all, he would have more than enough time to take her apart and put her back together on Dagobah.

With any luck, once her mission had been accomplished, she would quietly fade away. Such were the thoughts flittering through his mind as the woman reached his side. Even then she refused to look at him preferring the visage of a far away mechanic. Avoidance must have been her strong suit, he decided.

Five of them boarded the spacecraft. It was not too large a party, not too small. Considering that four of them did have knowledge on how to protect themselves and only one proved a burden, it was to be expected that Dagobah would not be too much of a challenge.

Keeping to his feet, Kylo watched as Lygeia was firmly placed into her seat, a trooper standing next to her to prevent any dangerous pursuits. Very much doubting that she could do anything even if she wanted to, the knight allowed himself to relax for a few brief moments.

Soon enough they were in hyperspace, having broken free of the embrace of the mother-ship. Ahead of them, the sunlit side of Dagobah beckoned them forth, its green glow proof of life and fertility. Having chosen beforehand the landing spot, the pilot took them down with relative ease, the ship rocking ever so slightly with their descent. All in all, it had gone well to that particular point. They landed on the swamp-ridden planet in the middle of a wooded area, thankfully not in a body of water.

Their duty known to them, the stormtroopers exited the vehicle first, scouring the area for any threat. Once it was deemed safe, they reported back to Kylo. He, in turn, took Lygeia by the arm and dragged her to her feet. The moment his hand had touched her wrist, he felt her muscles lock tightly, as if preparing for an assault. Pleased with the reaction, Kylo did not correct whatever assumption had begun forming in her mind.

Without as much as a word, he led her out of the spaceship and onto the soft, squelching terrain. The trouble with swampy plants was that there was mud everywhere. Her foot sank into the yielding earth and Lygeia did her best not to wince as cool wetness kissed her ankles. It was nothing short of disturbing. Her stomach squeezed painfully. If only she could move away.

The more time she spent near Kylo Ren, the more painful it became. She'd not thought it was possible to gather so much fear into a single individual, yet it seemed that not only it could happen, but it was happening to her. What that other knight had done to her had been child's play by comparison. Her mind still reeled when she though of her lungs giving way, stopping entirely. The back of her throat burned unpleasantly as the recent memory wrapped greedy limbs around her.

If anyone took notice of her state, they did not show it. Instead she was pushed into the awaiting arms of a trooper and the five of them matches to only the Force knew where. Lygeia tried to keep a mental map of the place, but orientation had never been one of her strong points, And in such a place where civilisation had not yet to take bloom she was utterly lost and without hope.

After what seemed to her an endless journey, they reached a small hillside where they stopped. The knight turned towards her, the expected reaction not failing to manifest itself. Hoping against hope that she would somehow be allowed to stay with the troopers while he went about his business, Lygeia was disappointed nonetheless when she was denied that option.

"Come here," Kylo Ren said, beckoning her at his side.

She had taken no more than a step when, without warning, the earth shook. The might shudder produced a high-pitched scream from her. Balance upset, the woman nearly landed on the damp ground, but saved herself at the last moment by grabbing a low hanging branch. The rumble slowly died away however, to leave her staring at the caped warrior. He had not even moved an inch. Feeling foolish, her reaction nothing less than childish, Lygeia began walking towards him once more. The least she could do was hold on to the last shred of dignity she possessed.

With an uneven step, she walked over the marshy territory, nearly reaching her destination before another seismic wave hit them. This time she had no branch to grab and found herself on her hands and knees.

It was at that point she found it was no earthquake shaking them to pieces. Before their very eyes, from within the bowels of the wretched planet, a giant creature shot out.

All hell broke loose.

The blaster went off, shooting laser beams at the goliath. But there were only three stormtroopers. The power of their arms was barely enough to produce a scratch. That did not stop any of the three, however, as they circled the creature and discharged their weapons against its massive frame.

Lygeia rolled out of the way instinctively, crawling through the muck until she reached relative safety at the roots of a tree. From her vantage point she watched as the creature's tail broke through the moist earth and swiped at the soldiers. Two of them managed to avoid it, but the third was not so lucky. He was cut clean in half, the two parts of his body falling away. His scream of pain tore through the air.

Eyes stuck on the severed upper part, Lygeia could not help the morbid curiosity she felt upon noting that the hands were still moving. The man's weapon discharged a final salvo. It did not good though, as it missed his killed, instead striking the trunk of a tree. Splinters danced through the air and the cadaver grew limp. The heavy atmosphere pressed with alarming tenacity, as the monster once more brought down its weapon.

Thankfully, a second time around it missed both stormtroopers. Lygeia's attention shifted towards the Ren knight just in time to see him draw out his lightsabre and jump into a reckless attack. His weapon never made contact with the beast.

The giant, aware of its surroundings, rammed its body backwards, bringing its tail to the front to act as a shield. The sudden movement left Kylo no time to shift his own direction and he ended up knocking his side into the creature's pillar of a tail.

Stunned, the female could only watch as one of the troopers ran before their leader and blasted his weapon off savagely. For the first time she heard the desperate yell of a man facing death head-on. And the sound seared itself into her mind, itching like a new brand, as the deadly tail impaled the man The knight was not done for, however. Before long, he rose to his feet and, bringing his sabre before him, ran at the creature.

Distracted, the monster did not catch the black shadow gliding through the air this time. The lightsabre rained down blows upon the goliath.

Whether it was no heavily wounded that it had to pull out of the fight or if it was simply the disillusionment of gaining an easy meal that prompted its departure, not before slashing at the remaining soldier however, Lygeia could not tell, nor did she care for anything but the fact that the creature was gone.

Heart thumping loudly in her chest, the woman rose to her feet, grimacing at the grime upon her clothing and skin. There was not an inch if dry skin on her. She shivered lightly.

"You! Come here," the knight called out to her when she made no move to leave the shadows she had claimed sanctuary within. It was only then that Lygeia realised she might have escaped, easily so, when they fought off the monster.

The ship had flown, though. Dismayed, the female walked towards the masked men. Two corpses laid at their feet, the fallen comrades. She looked at the dead and recoiled as her foot came close to the freshest kill. It was nothing short of disturbing. She had watched these men die and had done nothing to help them.

But they were soldiers, her mind reasoned. Death was a risk of the trade. Nothing more and nothing less.

Skirting the cadavers, Lygeia made her way to the injured man's side. They had to find some sort of shelter. "The ship," she began, the idea coming to her most unexpectedly.

"No. It won't help us." And true enough, when she turned towards the ship, she could see a wide tear in its wall. "Those caves over there will have to do. Hold his other side," the knight instructed, his voice coming out harsh and unfeeling.

Unwilling to risk his wrath in such trying circumstances, Lygeia gingerly took hold of the trooper's other arm, easing it around her shoulders. Just as soon, her body wavered under the additional weight. The man himself was heavy and the added armour did not ease the burden. Muscles screaming in protest, the woman gritted her teeth tightly. The mud and gore added to the unpleasantness, both factors serving to turn her stomach inside out. She was, thankfully, able to avoid emptying it on the ground.

Not without a good amount of struggling did they finally reach the caves. Kylo grunted underneath the burden of the injured man and the defenceless woman. Yet he well knew he could leave neither behind. If the creature attacked again, he would need all the aid he could get. Which, given the circumstances was not very much.

The ship was down too. In the morning he would need to see to that. Perhaps try to establish communications with the First Order. It might be that the dratted creature hadn't destroyed everything. Until then, however, he needed to survive the night.

The trooper was placed against the wall and Kylo slid down next to him. His side burned, the ache very nearly making his skin burst. Never had he felt anything its like. With a hiss of pain, he raised his hands to the helmet covering his face and dragged it off.

It was her insistent stare that brought him out of the nonresponsive state he'd fallen in. Those eyes, looking at him with a mixture of horror and wonder woke in him a flare of exhausted annoyance. "What?" he glowered at her, feeling naked in the absence of his customary gear.

"You're bleeding," she pointed out, touching her forehead slightly to the right, just beneath the hairline.

Kylo mirrored her movement without meaning to and when his fingers came back down red coated them.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
